


Please, Wake Up

by Edge of Darkness (arsenicarose)



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: Blood, Bullet wound, Coma, Dreams, Drinking, Excessive Drinking, F/M, Fake Character Death, Hangover, M/M, Other, Reality Bending, Vomit, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 16:11:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11383728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arsenicarose/pseuds/Edge%20of%20Darkness
Summary: Reality starts to fall apart for you, and Spencer Reid pulls you through.





	Please, Wake Up

**Author's Note:**

> This work is inspired by the Futurama episode called "The Sting." Season 5, Episode 9.

“Spencer, please! Stay with me!” you cry, shaking him.

“I’m fine, Y/N. We need to get you to a hospital,” he murmurs. His blood is all over your hands, but he looks resolute. His face holds no trace of the pain he should be feeling.

“Spence, please! We need to help you. I’m fine!”

“You’re not fine. Please, Y/N, keep your eyes on me. Don’t succumb.”

“Succumb to what?” You are so confused. There is blood everywhere, and Spencer should be freaking out. Why is he so calm?

The ambulance arrives and he is taken away. It is the last time you see him alive.

\---

The funeral is held at a beautiful church. The shimmering stained glass windows reflect colors across the room. Spencer looks ethereal, even in death. The team sits around you, trying to comfort you, but you are gone. You never got to tell him how you felt. Now, he would never know.

Tears have been trailing down your face nonstop for the entire day. As each team member recalls memories of the young doctor, you feel them surge, the pain refreshed. He got in the way of your bullet. It should have been you.

You decline the chance to speak. You lost your voice at some point during the planning of this funeral, and you haven’t been able to find it since. It wouldn’t matter anyway. The tears would have stolen it.

As he is lowered into the ground, you drop a bouquet of flowers on the casket. “I would have built a life with you, Spence. If only I wasn’t too scared to tell you.”

You stand by his grave long after he has been lowered. You watch them fill the hole, covering him in darkness. He is so scared of the dark. He should have been given to science. He should have been cremated. He shouldn’t have died.

The team says goodbye to you as they leave one by one. They ask if you need anything, and you shake your head. They can’t give you what you need.

When darkness falls, you finally head home. A bottle of wine is in order. Maybe it will help you forget.

You are halfway through it when you hear his voice. “Y/N that’s a lot of liquor. Am I really worth the hangover that will give you?”

“Spence? What are you doing here?”

“I had to come visit. I was so worried. You aren’t handling this well. You can get through this, though. I know it.”

“I can’t, Spencer. I can’t. I need you here. There are so many things I didn’t get to say.”

“I’m here now.”

“How?” You reach out a tentative hand, wanting to feel if he is real. Your fingers brush the soft material of his sweater, and you feel tears welling. You throw yourself at him. He is surprised by your embrace, but holds you.

“Remember when they faked Emily’s death for her safety? They did the same for me.”

You pull away. “I don’t remember you being in that kind of danger…”

“That doesn’t matter. I had to come back for you.”

“Oh, Spence, there is so much I need to tell you!”

“You can tell me everything. All you need to do is wake up.”

“What? I am awake! I’m right here! What do you mean?”

You find yourself on your couch, alone. The empty bottle of wine has fallen from your grasp and rolled away from you. A dream… It was only a dream. You feel the tears come, and curl up into a ball.

\---

“I can’t come in, Hotch.” Your voice is hoarse, and your head is pounding. Dream Spencer had a point: was he worth this killer hangover?

“Y/N, we all miss Reid, but he would want us to get back to work. There are still serial killers out there.”

“I know, I know. I just… I can’t do it. I need more time…”

“Fine. We’ll handle this case. But we’ll need you for the next one.”

“Of course,” you lie, hanging up the phone. You don’t know if you will ever be able to do it again. How will you ever solve a case without him? It would be so quiet without Spencer’s rambling explanations. Would you ever understand anything again, now that he is gone?

You find yourself unable to leave the couch. Some part of you doesn’t think you deserve the comfort of your bed. Spencer would never sleep in a bed again.

“Come on, Y/N. That is ridiculous. I don’t need a bed anymore. And my coffin is really comfortable,” Spencer says, appearing next to you.

“Don’t do this, Spence. Seeing you like this, it hurts. I know you aren’t really here.”

“I’m here for you, Y/N. I will always be here for you. I promise.”

“But you’re not here! You died!” you scream. You close your eyes and shake your head, trying to send him away.

“Y/N, I’m alright. Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself, please.”

“I’ll worry about myself when I’m dead!” you growl. You propel yourself off your sofa and try to leave him behind. He follows you through your apartment.

“Y/N, please. Listen to me. I know you can hear me.”

“I don’t want to hear you! You aren’t real!” You cover your ears with your hands, and collapse on the floor. You are shaking violently, and Spencer puts a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Please, wake up,” he whispers. He is so close to you. He has to be real right?

But you wake up on the floor, curled in the fetal position. Are you losing your mind? You weren’t even in a relationship with him! Why was this affecting you so much?

You stand on unsteady feet and find a bottle of something alcoholic. You don’t care what it is, you just chug it.

\---

“Y/N! Open the door!” Garcia shouts, banging on the wood.

You are too drunk to speak, let alone move. You don’t even bother trying. You just lay where you are on the kitchen floor, the cool tile soothing you.

The door bangs open, and Derek and Penelope are there. “Oh, Y/N, sweetie…” Garcia coos, stroking your greasy hair.

“Go ‘way,” you mumble.

“No, we have to take care of you! God, why isn’t anyone taking care of you?”

“Noooo,” you moan, unwilling to move.

“Come on, let’s get you in the shower,” Derek murmurs.

“Jus’ leave me alone!” you slur, jerking away from them. The world spins, and you resist the urge to vomit.

“There’s not much else we can do for her, baby girl,” Derek says.

“We have to try!” Garcia cries, tears breaking her voice.

“She’ll get up when she can.”

“I’m jus’ fine,” you say.

They don’t seem to be able to hear you, but they, thankfully, leave.

“You really should accept help from your friends,” Spencer chides.

“Leave me alone, Spencer! Can’t you see this is killing me!”

“I’m just going to keep talking just in case you can hear me. I know you can. I’ll tell you about anything and everything in the world if I have to.”

“Please, let me be. I’m sorry I killed you, but I can’t do this if you keep haunting me!”

“I’m not haunting you. I’m just staying close to you. I have to make sure you are okay.”

“I’m fine!” You suddenly feel sober, and push yourself from the tiles. “I’m FINE! But I would be better if you stopped doing this!”

“I won’t stop, Y/N. Not until you wake up.”

You are still on the floor of the kitchen. The white tile has been sprayed with vomit, and you are alone. Did Derek and Garcia come, or was that a dream too? Your head is pounding, and you can’t face the mess you made in the kitchen. You crawl to the bathroom, and curl up there.  
\---

“She doesn’t seem to be getting better, Hotch. What can we do?” Garcia asks.

You blink your eyes open, and see the entire team is standing inside your bathroom. How can they all fit.

“We are doing everything we can, Garcia. We just have to wait.” Hotch’s usually stern voice has been softened by grief and exhaustion.

“What about Spencer?” you ask, “He needs your help more than me!”

“I don’t know what to do…” Garcia says, tears welling.

“Neither do I.” Hotch and Garcia turn away, and the rest of the team follows them.

“Wait, please! I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me!” You want to keep speaking, but you feel vomit rising in your throat. You toss your head into the toilet bowl and let go.

“Oh god, Y/N, this is all my fault,” Spencer murmurs. He is holding your hair back and petting it at the same time.

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t mean to die,” you whisper into the toilet, bitterly.

“If only I had move you out of the way. We wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“But you did move me, Spencer! You did!”

“I don’t know if you can hear me, Y/N, but I really care about you. Please, wake up.”

“No, don’t. I can’t be alone, Spence. Please don’t say that!”

“Wake up, please!”

Your eyes shoot open, and you find yourself in an unfamiliar room.

“Spencer?” You croak.

He slides into your vision. “Y/N? Oh my god, are you awake!”

“Yeah… I guess so. You kept waking me up, but this time you are still here. I’m sorry I killed you.”

His face crumples. “Y/N, you didn’t kill me. The bullet hit you. I tried to move you out of the way, but I wasn’t fast enough.”

“But your blood, it was all over my hands. You were bleeding to death!”

“No, that was your blood. I was trying to stabilize you.”

Suddenly, it all clicks into place. Spencer’s calm face, him trying to get you to a hospital, the blood all over you. “Oh… Oh my god.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Confused…” you confess.

“That’s normal. You have been out for a little while. The team will be so happy you are okay.”

Pieces of your dreams come back to you. The team… “Spencer, I heard you.”

He smiles, though it is tinged with exhaustion. “I’m glad.”

“I really care about you too. I was so worried I wouldn’t get to tell you…”

“Me too.” He squeezes your hand reassuringly.

“When this is all over, do you want to see what we can make together?”

Tears come to his eyes, but his face is all happiness. “I’d like that.”


End file.
